


Like Responsible Adults Do

by misura



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, Domestic, Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-09
Updated: 2007-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>prompt: <i>House/Wilson - man on the moon - intoxication or altered states</i></p>
    </blockquote>





	Like Responsible Adults Do

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _House/Wilson - man on the moon - intoxication or altered states_

House knows himself to be what basically amounts to a responsible adult. Sure, he has his moments of juvenility - or juvenilism or whatever it's called; it's not a disease that's treatable, so the name really doesn't matter as much as the symptoms do. Which in his case consist of a desire to yell (at Foreman, for being so smart and so stupid at the same time), poke fun (at Chase, for being so stupid and so smart at the same time), squabble (with Wilson, for being, well, just stupid), hug (Cameron, for being all cutesy ... and so smart and so stupid at the same time) and pick fights he knows he's going to win, but that are still unnecessary (with Cuddy, for being Cuddy).

Still, he doesn't drink (stupid phrase, that - everyone drinks, otherwise everyone'd be suffering from dehydration). He doesn't smoke (unless it's a charity-party and he's wearing a tux to impress Cuddy with his stunning good looks, and even then only cigars). He rarely breaks the speed-limit (only when it's obvious the speed-limit has been determined by a bunch of idiots). If he'd be having sex and be allowed to talk about (some people are just so very henpecked and in the closet, it's pathetic), he'd be sure to tell everyone he wasn't just having sex, no, he was having _safe_ sex.

Wilson, on the other hand, knows not the meaning of the word 'responsible'. He puts on a good act, but House can see right through it. Wilson's a perfect example of your average irresponsible adult; cheating on his wife, flirting with the nurses, sleeping with House - well, that last's definitely at the top of the list, because if there's one thing the soaps usually get right, it's that sleeping with your best friend will only make things worse. (House doesn't see their relationship in that light, of course, but he knows Wilson does, because you don't usually go to just some guy you know from work when your wife's kicked you out on the street.) Plus, Wilson has a couch-fetish.

Any doctor could tell you that couches are, in general, not good places to sleep. Bad for your back, bad for your leg-muscles, bad for your lungs - and everyone knows that 'sleeping on the couch' is just another way to say 'not getting any' and what responsible adult would willingly have _that_ being said about him? No, for all that Wilson cooks and cleans (whining about it, but still doing it, which is just so juvenile of him it'd almost make House think they were back in college again), he's totally irresponsible. And repressing it in the worst way, pretending he's just fine.

Thus House, in a moment of kindness, has decided to help him out. More precisely, he's decided that what Wilson really needs is to get drunk. Loosen up, let it all out - all very therapeutic and medically sound and hopefully entertaining (because hey, House has been living with Wilson for weeks and putting up with him for years and years, besides of which, he'll be paying for the booze, so he feels he deserves some entertainment). At the very least, House hopes to lure Wilson away from his couch (House's couch, really, except that he never sleeps on it, let alone has developed an unhealthy fixation on the thing). Plus, he'll get a hung-over Wilson the next morning, to torture to his heart's content. House feels it's a little like Christmas, only without the fat guy in a red suit, and the disco-tree, and the sentimental drivel about peace on earth.

"Did you put something in my coffee?" House's lucky yet ignorant patient-of-the-day asks. After only one sip of medicine (cleverly disguised as coffee) even. Irresponsible _and_ paranoid.

"It's decaf," House replies. Getting drunk probably doesn't help against paranoia, but waking up in another person's bed with that other person still being there the next morning might. It's that nice, safe nest-feeling - unless, of course, someone's hogging the blankets, but House thinks Wilson's more the type to want to cuddle, suffering from the delusion that physical closeness equals emotional closeness.

Wilson grimaces, but drinks the coffee anyway, being an idiot. (There's no treatment for _that_ , unfortunately - or perhaps not-so-unfortunately, since all the hospitals would be crammed if there was, with barely any personnel to run them.) House pretends to watch TV.

He figured that, what with Wilson pretending to be all responsible, he probably wouldn't fall for House spontaneously deciding to throw him a 'welcome to my house'-party. Now, while it's possible to put more alcohol in beer, it's also kind of noticeable. Added to which, there's the whole psychological element of getting Wilson to pick the right bottle, and not sneakily switching his with House's. It's just way too much work. Coffee's not ideal either, by any means, but, as has been just demonstrated, it works. (It's also just been demonstrated that no matter what the commercials say, there's still people who don't believe in decaf tasting the same as normal coffee, which might mean there's hope for the human race yet, even if House is more inclined to blame that feat of stubborn disbelief on caffeine-addiction than on any kind of inborn unwillingness to believe everything that's shown on TV.)

"You know, I do know what decaf tastes like, and this isn't it," Wilson says next.

"Huh?" House says. "Oh, I wasn't saying _that_ was decaf - I was only answering a question on the gameshow on TV. Stupid guy said 'cappuchino'."

"Right," Wilson says. House notices he's still drinking the coffee, which means Wilson is either very trusting (trusting and paranoid? now that's just freaky) or very stupid - they're close, but not quite the same thing. Stupid people end up in hospitals, lying about what they did to get there - trusting people end up making a complete mess of their life and being miserable.

"Do you never wonder why there never seem to be any _smart_ people on these kinds of shows?" House asks.

"Maybe it's because - oh, I don't know, because the actually smart people work in _real_ hospitals?"

House scoffs. Trust Wilson to entirely miss the point.

"That's not a game-show, you know," Wilson adds, clearly suffering from the delusion that _House_ is the stupid, repressed non-adult around here.

"It could be," House says, just because. "Guess the disease. Make bets about how many times we'll almost get to see a nurse's underwear. Have a drink any time someone nearly dies, but gets saved at the last minute. Eat some peanuts whenever a doctor flirts with one of the nurses and the nurse pretends she doesn't like it, the hussy."

"You did put something in my coffee."

It's not a question, so House doesn't bother answering it. Wilson takes another sip of coffee. Nurse Suzie playfully hits Doctor Whomever with her clipboard, her mouth saying 'no' but every other part of her body saying 'yes'. And then people wonder where all those sexual harassment-suits come from.

"Tastes kind of nice, actually." Wilson pours himself another cup and sits down again.

Nurse Suzie sails off to gossip with the other nurses, and Doctor Whomever looks after her with an expression that's probably supposed to be something romantic - 'wistful', maybe.

"Aren't you going to ask what I put in your coffee? Which is actually mine, by the way, since I paid for it, but that aside."

"Aren't you going to tell me anyway?" Occasionally, Wilson has these weird moments of insight. They're a bit scary, really, but then again, House will take 'a bit scary' over 'boring' five days out of seven.

"Well, yes, but most people would like to know what they're drinking before they actually drink it. Well, not really _exactly_ what they're drinking, just some sort of general description, something that'll reassure them that yup, it's perfectly normal for their tongue to turn blue all of a sudden." That reminds him: he really does need to get his hands on some of that stuff. It will make clinic-duty that teensiest bit more bearable, House just knows it. Let's see what Cuddy will have to say about a patient with a blue tongue - and whatever small and mostly harmless illness the poor sod had in the first place.

"I trust you," Wilson says.

House mentally goes 'whoa', glances at the time, makes an estimate of the amount of coffee Wilson's had and decides that all evidence points to the obvious conclusion. Which is kind of a pity, because House feels he definitely could have gone to some interesting places with a statement like that if Wilson had been sober and in full control of himself, but since he's not, that would be taking advantage, and House may be a bastard, but he's got his limits. Besides, it's no fun when people don't remember anything the day after.

"Trust is generally considered to be an essential part of any relationship," House says, throwing out a random cliche to give Wilson something to think about while House comes up with something clever and highly manipulative to say.

"Yes, but you think it's lies, don't you?" Wilson snorts.

House plays some rough and thumble with the grammar of that sentence and finally decides that what do you know, Wilson's actually hit the bull's eye twice in a row. Good thing he's drunk and probably won't remember this conversation in the morning - a pity House can't do the same. The downside of being an evil genius: you can never get nice and drunk. Oh sure, he's got underlings - can't be an evil genius without minions - but they're only good to bounce ideas off and do legwork.

"Well, if you want to, I guess you could trust me, and I could tell you lies. Both of us happy, perfect relationship." House honestly can't think of anything he'd want to lie to Wilson about - nothing _big_ anyway. Small things, like forgetting to take out the trash or buy eggs - sure, he lies about that to Wilson all the time. Big things though, like that _other_ boyfriend he's living with - no. Whatever they're made of, relationships require effort, and House simply doesn't feel that getting some in a bed instead of on a couch or in the bathroom is worth it.

"There's no such thing as a perfect relationship," Wilson declares.

"Negative thinking," House chides. "You know that can get you killed, right? Happy thoughts, that's the way to go if you want to live a long and healthy life. Birds, butterflies, kittens. Pink. Pretty boobs, although I guess that one's adults-only."

" _You_ like staring at women's breasts? You?" Wilson sounds actually incredulous. House can't imagine why - surely Wilson doesn't assume that just because House has pity-sex with him that means he's gay? Has Wilson somehow missed the part of House's life where he almost got married - to a woman, and one with some very nice breasts, too? Of course, House has heard those sob-stories about normal, heterosexual males being driven to homosexuality by their bitches of wives, but any idiot can see those morons are only faking it, and fooling nobody except themselves.

"Cameron's got pretty nice ones," House says. Cuddy does, too, but Wilson's such a tattle-tale, and House doesn't want her starting to interpret their fights as some sort of mating-ritual, his way of saying 'hey, look at me, I'm mentally stuck in fifth grade, so rather than be an adult and ask you out on a date, I come here and start an argument with you about something completely irrelevant like, oh, say, the life of my patient - just ignore me and I'll go away'.

"I don't," Wilson comments.

House decides he'll take that as a good sign - Wilson's saying that he's ready to stop talking about abstracts and start talking about himself.

"You compensate for it in other areas," House says and look at that: he's lying. On a scale of one to ten, lying about your partner's good sides probably scores at least an eight, outside of the whole 'does this dress make me look fat?' thing, which thankfully never comes up with Wilson, although that new apron Wilson insisted on buying looks far too frilly to be worn by a male. Wilson never asked for House's opinion though - just bought the damn thing and hung it on a hook in the kitchen.

"I'm drunk," Wilson notes. He doesn't sound quite unhappy at the discovery.

"Yeah," House says.

"I'm drunk, and you're not."

Next, House muses, Wilson will start making an observation about Steve, who's been banned to the kitchen for setting off Wilson's over-sensitive 'I can't have sex with you now, because I feel like someone's watching us' senses. Rat-kitchen isn't a great combination, but it beats sex-kitchen, and House is sure it's only temporal.

"You can sleep on the couch tonight," Wilson says, rising and almost managing to stand up straight.

House decides he can be generous and gives him ten minutes' head-start.


End file.
